


You Are My Band-Aid

by PsychoCalixteLove



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Luisa's POV, symbolic tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoCalixteLove/pseuds/PsychoCalixteLove
Summary: Luisa's POV: I have band-aid tattoos on my sides, wrist, and chest. Beca keeps asking what they mean, but little does she know they mean a lot more than she expected.





	You Are My Band-Aid

**Author's Note:**

> For this, I have both Luisa and Beca as female-leading Bisexuals.

**Luisa**

 

I woke up to the soft pawing of my sides and opened my eyes to see my girlfriend, Beca, staring at my sides intently. Specifically my sides because on each side I had a tattoo of band-aid. I had similar tattoos on my right wrist and over my heart. The two on my wrist were horizontally parallel and rested over a scar I got a few years ago while the two over my heart formed an X. Beca always asked me what they meant, and this morning was no exception. She saw that I was awake and greeted, “Good Morning, Lu.” I smiled at her, responded, “Morning, Maus,” and gave her a quick kiss. She kissed me back and went back to admiring my tattoos. She pushed me onto my back, straddling my waist, and started to run her fingers over my heart, paying close attention to the detail. The band-aids were nothing really special because they were basic band-aids with music notes on them, but I knew them to symbolize something much greater than a band-aid. Beca pursed her lips, pulled her eyebrows together, and asked, “What do they mean? Your tattoos?” I reached up and cupped her cheek, telling her, “You shall know when the time comes.” She looked me in the eyes, sighed, and said, “You  _ always _ say that. When will that time be?” I smirked at her like I always did when she was being childish and sat up, kissing her softly. “That time will be when the time will be. Simple,” I explained, pushing her off me and getting up.

She whined but got up with me. We weren’t wearing anything besides our bras and boy shorts, which just so happened to be all black for both of us. She stood behind me, wrapped her arms around my waist, placing her hands on my tattoos, and suggested, “Should we get some breakfast?” I held her arms against me as I walked to the kitchen. We shared a large studio apartment that had an open floor plan and a high ceiling, which allowed for the floor to ceiling windows. Our bed was in the corner farthest from the door, and the kitchen was on the wall to the far right. The living room and dining table were in front of both of them if you were just coming in the door. Beca kissed my back as I started making us some scrambled eggs and bacon, whisking the eggs to its yellow mixture. She made little circles on my sides where the band-aids were and started saying, “Of all the things I don’t know about you, this is one of the greatest mysteries. It’s like trying to solve, I don’t know, a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. Your tattoos are the puzzle cube, and I’m the person blindfolded, trying to figure this out.” I chuckled at her comparison of me to a plastic cube and poured the raw eggs into the hot pan. “I can guarantee you, Maus, that it’s not that hard to solve. You just have to think hard enough,” I teased, flipping the bacon in the pan next to me. The bacon sizzled as the raw pieces started cooking, and the eggs finished cooking. I turned off the burner that was cooking the eggs and moved them to the plates.

The bacon finished cooking not too long after that, and I had our breakfast ready. I pulled Beca off me and handed her one of the plates, sitting at the high rise table. Beca always mocked me for getting the high table and accused me of indirectly making fun of her height because it nearly came up to her chest while it was at waist level for me. She moaned as she ate the first bite of her food, saying, “Oh my God. You must be, like, Martha Stewart or something because these are . . . God.” I silently laughed and began eating myself. We sat and talked about what we were planning on doing that day because we were both off work and wanted to spend some time together. Often times, we only got a few hours with each other every few days because we were so busy with work or something else. Today, we had a full day and we weren’t going to waste it. Beca finished her breakfast quicker than I thought, and came up behind me, locking her arms around my waist and squeezing the area where my band-aids were. I tried not to freeze at the touch and kept eating instead. “Can I at least know why the band-aids have music notes on them?” she questioned, kissing my neck. I turned to her and kissed her, acknowledging, “Because they represent something too.” She growled hoarsely, clearly upset with my response, and I just laughed as she lightly smacked my shoulder and walked in front of me. She climbed into my lap, straddling my legs, and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“I only tolerate your sarcasm because I love you, you know that right?” she told me, looking me in the eyes. I smiled smugly and responded, “Ja, Maus, and I love you too, which is why I wait until the right time to tell you.” I rubbed the tip of my nose against hers and kissed her. She grew the slightest bit concerned by my sincerity in my sentence, consoling me, “Do you wait because you think I’ll run away if it’s something bad?” I knew she was right so I nodded my head, knowing that the reason I have the tattoos is because of her. She awed lightly, kissed me over and over again, convincing me, “No matter the reason, I’ll love you. I will love you until I can’t anymore because, Luisa, you’ve made my life as happy as it could possibly be simply by being in it.” She hugged me tightly, and I hugged her back, gently swaying back and forth. I nestled my head into her shoulder and reveled in the feeling of her against me. I loved it. I loved  _ her. _ And I knew I always would.

********

We were laying on our bed when my first confession came. My head was positioned underneath Beca’s chin, her arms wrapped around my neck, and I held her close around the waist. “I was broken hearted before,” I admitted, not looking up from Beca’s chest. My statement must’ve confused her because she stopped stroking my head and asked, “What?” I breathed out a breath I was holding and pulled away slightly, moving to be eye level with her. “I was broken hearted before you met me. All those years ago, I had a boyfriend I broke up with about a month before Worlds. When I broke it off, I ended up breaking myself because he was the one thing I could count on in my life. My parents didn’t know that I liked both men and women, but preferred women. They wouldn’t understand. I made myself all alone, and I was falling to pieces when you got to know me. Like,  _ actually _ know me. Know Luisa, not Kommissar.” I switched back and forth between Beca’s eyes, seeing something similar in each. It was pity. Almost no one except Pieter (Thank God for him) had ever shown me such an intimate feeling and tears welled up in my eyes. Beca noticed how I was starting to come undone and quickly comforted me. She kissed me sweetly and pulled me back into her chest.

I could hear her steady heartbeat lightly thump against my lips as I pressed a kiss to her chest. She understood why I had the bandages over my heart and didn’t question that any further. She could see I was pushed a bit and respected my space by not prying for the explanations to the other bandages I got inked into my skin. Once the moment had passed, we both yawned and settled into each other’s arms. “Would you like to take a nap now?” Beca yawned, pulling away enough to look me in the eyes. “Ja, Maus. I would love a nap right now,” I answered, moving up toward her. “I know what you mean because we had a pretty late night last night,” she continued, watching me turn over on my other side. She snuggled up behind me, wrapping an arm around my chest with the other one going up my front and gripping my shoulder. She threw a leg over my hip as she pulled the blanket over us both, pressing her face into the base of my neck. I didn’t know whether it was her gentle touch or the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the windows that sent me to sleep, but I knew the low rumbles of thunder were somehow disengaging, quieting the storm raging in my mind.  _ “No, Levi! You made your decision! We’re over! I don’t want to see you ever again!” My screams rang through the apartment, probably alerting everyone else in the building. I made to go grab my bag and head to the airport, but the next thing I saw was the hardwood floor. _

********

Later that afternoon, while we were dancing, I told Beca of the second confession. Her hands were on my waist where my tattoos were, and my arms were around her neck, our bodies moving to the soft jazz. “I was a victim of abuse,” I released, resting my head on Beca’s. She almost immediately stopped dancing, clearly not expecting the news. She pulled away slightly, a glint of concern in her eyes. She reached up, cupped my cheek, and said, “Please tell me that’s not true.” I leaned into her touch momentarily and told her, “It’s true, Maus.” I felt myself go uncharacteristically afraid of what Beca would do or say so I started to walk away. She tightened her grip on my waist a bit, causing me to stop, and moved in front of me. Tears speckled her eyes as she looked me in the face, adjusting my head to look back at her. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to my lips, whispering, “It’s fine, Luisa. You can tell me. I’m here.” I pulled her into a hug by her waist and held her against me for a while before I started explaining. “That boyfriend from years ago, his name was Levi. We had a pretty normal relationship, but he would get pretty mad with me about the stupidest things. I wouldn’t tell him about a performance I had with DSM because I wanted it to be a surprise to him, and he would get fairly ticked off. Most of the time, it was either verbal abuse or minor hits like a slap across the face or a light shove. You would think I would’ve learned to tell him everything, and I did. I went on for months about Worlds and when I was about to leave for the airport to fly to Copenhagen a month in advance to explore the city a bit, he just went ballistic.”

I had to pause for a second because all of the past hurt was coming back to mind, and I could barely keep it together. Beca pulled me over to the couch, sat down, and forced me down into her lap. I moved as close as I could and felt her wrap her arms around my waist, comforting me so I wouldn’t cry. When I gained the courage, I continued, “He screamed at me, accusing me of leaving him, and I tried to convince him that I told him about nearly every day for the past three months. He refused to listen to me, and that’s when he snapped. He smacked me so hard across the face I thought my neck was going to break and he grabbed me by the waist. He pushed me against the wall and he growled ‘You’re staying here! You understand me?!’ His grip on my waist was tight enough to leave bruises, and I struggled to free myself from his hold. It wasn’t until I punched him in the gut that he loosened his grip enough for me to get away. I told him ‘No, Levi! You made your decision! We’re over! I don’t want to see you ever again!’ I went to go grab my suitcase and leave for the airport, but the next thing I saw was the floor. He had pushed me straight to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. I didn’t catch my breath before he picked me up off the floor and forced me back against the wall. I was crying relentlessly and he obviously didn’t like that I wanted to get away from him. By the time he was finished with me, I had a cut and bloody lip and the beginnings of a black eye. I hurried to the airport, using sunglasses to disguise my face, and hoped Pieter wouldn’t notice how scared I was. But Pieter being my best friend, he knew instantly something was wrong. Before I could protest, he removed my sunglasses and saw how bruised my face was.”

“I tried to tell him that I fell, but he wasn’t buying any of it. He held both sides of my face gently and told me firmly ‘You’re away from him now and I swear on my life, I will never let anyone hurt you like this again.’ His words cut me to the core and I knew he was truly my friend. He pulled me into a tight hug and I cried into his chest, allowing myself to cry for the first time in years.” I finished and looked to Beca, who started to cry herself. She held my face like Pieter had those years ago, kissed me with increasing passion and love, and told me something similar to what Pieter told me. “You’re with me now, and I swear on my fucking life, I will never, ever hurt you like he did. I won’t hurt you at all, in any way.” We kissed a few more times and decided to go outside for a few hours to get some sunlight. She knew why I had the bandages at my sides and knew how to admire them now.

********

My third confession came in the middle of the movie we were watching that night. Beca was lying on my chest, under my chin, and she had her hands placed softly over the bandages on my sides, soothing the dull pain with her touch. I had to breathe deeply a few times to make sure I was calm before I finally let go of my final secret. “I nearly killed myself.” I could tell Beca was surprised, but she mostly seemed devastated by the imposition. She lifted herself off me, looked at me in the eyes, and kissed me tenderly, telling me, “You don’t have to explain this if you don’t want to. You’ve already told me enough today.” I cupped her cheek, running my thumb across her lips, and said, “I have to, Maus. I don’t like hiding things from you.” She nodded her head solemnly as if she knew how desperate I was feeling to share such a terrible tale, and laid back down on my chest, sighing lightly. “It was a few days after Worlds when I decided enough was enough. The few weeks before that, I was constantly being cyber attacked by Levi who told my parents of my sexual preferences. He called me all sorts of things  _ I _ can’t even repeat, and somewhere along the way, I thought it had to stop. I tried blocking him, but he just got a new number and continued. I tried to change my number, but he somehow found out my new number and still taunted me almost daily. Nobody realizes how much words can hurt, especially when it comes from family members. My sister tried to help me, but she was always too busy to really do anything, and my parents . . . well, I’ll just say it came as a surprise to them.”

“I sat in my hotel room alone with a shard of the hand mirror I broke and started to slit my right wrist, but then there was a knock at the door.” I stopped there, knowing Beca could fill in the rest of the details.  _ She _ was the knock on the door. 

_ I got off the couch, quickly hid the glass shards, and wrapped my slightly bleeding wrist in an extra towel before I opened the door to find that Beca was standing there. She held a small plate of danishes, and asked, “Do you want to talk?” I let her in, motioning for her to sit on the bed. She was wearing a flannel and skinny jeans, her typical choice, and she sat cross legged on the bed, sitting comfortably. I knew I had some feelings for the young Bella, but knew I wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship yet. I excused myself to the bathroom to formally bandage my wrist and came back to the room to find her lightly singing the song “The Heart Wants What It Wants” by that American singer, Selena Gomez I thought her name was. I sat on the bed next to Beca and picked up one of the danishes, thanking her. She let me eat all the danishes, telling me she wanted to do something nice for me out of friendly sportsmanship. We talked for hours about our groups, our families, and even our likes and dislikes, no matter how cliche that was.  _

_ Eventually, I laid down and closed my eyes, loving the way Beca’s voice sounded as she spoke so passionately about what she wanted her career to be like. I found that I could listen to her talk all the time, her voice was that unique. Not bad unique, but special unique. She had a way of sounding so much like a child while talking on such adult topics, it astounded me. I hadn’t realized I fell asleep until I opened my eyes again, heavy from sleep, and saw Beca just watching me. She immediately apologized for staring at me while I slept, but then continued ranting, complimenting me while she insulted herself. I sat up, knowing I’d have to stop her blubbering, and kissed her without any regrets. She pulled away, gaping at me with wide eyes, and asked, “What was that for?” I chuckled a bit and laid back down, explaining, “To let you know I like you watching me. And I wouldn’t mind you doing it for the rest of my life.” She blushed at the sudden proposition of dating. I knew I shouldn’t have initiated any contact, but there was something about Beca that I couldn’t get over. I couldn’t call it love for her, but I could definitely say that it was a sort of trust I only found with three other people in my life: Pieter, my sister, and Levi before all of his violence. I didn’t know it then, but Beca was going to be the one to save me and repair my wounds. _

“Now that I know why the band-aids are there, what do the band-aids themselves mean?” Beca asked, touching the band-aids on my chest. I looked at her plainly, smiled a little, and kissed her firmly. I pulled away, stared into her eyes, and told her, “You, Beca. You’re the one who’s healed all my wounds. You stopped me from killing myself without realizing it. Your tendency to hold my waist has removed the pain I once felt there. And your love for me repaired my broken heart. Beca,  _ you are my band-aid _ .”


End file.
